


Time After Time

by bdol



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, Grand Prix Final Banquet, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Sochi Grand Prix Final, Temporary Character Death, Unreliable Narrator, a touch of slow burn, there's a happy ending i promise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2018-09-27 00:22:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9940370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bdol/pseuds/bdol
Summary: Following an accident a few years into his marriage, Yuri finds himself thrown back in time. Back to a time before Victor loves him.—“Yuri, are you in there?” Celestino called out, “The banquet starts in half an hour. I know you don’t want to go, but you have to make an appearance as one of the finalists.”Yuri opened his eyes and sighed. This had to be some kind of sick joke that Celestino was playing on him. Phichit probably put him up to it or something. His phone was on the floor next to him. Yuri picked up his phone and looked at the date. It had to be wrong. December 9th, 2015. He was in Sochi in 2015.Yuri slid open the lock screen and opened up his camera. The face staring back at him was wearing a pair of glasses that he hadn’t worn in two years following a prescription change.He screamed.





	1. Wheel in the Sky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the time travel thing is probably hella overdone at this point but I'm gonna do it anyways. The update schedule for this is most likely going to be pretty irregular because I'm an astrophysics major who hates herself by taking on too many projects.
> 
> The fic title is taken from Cyndi Lauper's "Time After Time" and the chapter title is from Journey's "Wheel in the Sky".
> 
> All spellings are taken from the official website per usual.

Yuri and Victor had been married for three years following Yuri’s win over Victor at World’s in 2017. They were living comfortably in their apartment in St. Petersburg with Makkachin and sometimes Yurio. They had made it their home, and they were happy. 

On the morning of their third anniversary, Yuri got up early. He disentangled himself from Victor’s octopus-like clinging, sliding carefully out of the bed so as not to disturb neither his husband nor Makkachin. Yuri quietly changed into his running clothes; Makkachin used to join him on his morning runs but was far too old to do it now. She had bad hips, so walks with her became quick trips to the grass outside the building and back. 

He partially closed the bedroom door behind him, leaving it open just a crack so Makkachin could nose it open if she wanted to. Victor always slept in on their days off, and Yuri stifled a giggle at the sound of his husband’s snoring filtering through the apartment. Yuri was lucky he was a heavy sleeper because Victor snored like a trucker; Yuri had initially thought that Victor had soundproofed the apartment because of past lovers or something, but in reality it was just because Victor’s snoring would wake the neighbors. 

One of the things Yuri loved most about Victor was that when you peeled away the superficial layers built up by rumors and expectations, it was revealed that Victor was a giant dork. Yuri loved how he snored, how he clung in his sleep, how he never put on pajamas before bed, how he drank his coffee with more cream than actual coffee, how he would dance with Makkachin when he thought no one was watching, and how he sang really, really badly in the shower. Victor was a thousand times more wonderful than Yuri had ever dreamed in his years of idolatry—idolatry that had since grown to be the warm and true love between soulmates. Because that’s what they were: soulmates. 

Yuri stopped by the door of the apartment, bending down to put on his running shoes. After he laced them up, he grabbed his coat and scarf off the hook and pulled them on. Yuri slipped on his gloves and opened the door.

“I’m off,” he said softly, so as not to wake either of the two sleeping beauties in bed.

Yuri stepped out into the hallway, locking the door behind him. He took the elevator down and left the building. He took off at a slow but steady pace.  
The air was crisp, just on the edge of spring. He and Victor should visit his parents in Hasetsu sometime soon to see the cherry blossoms. St. Petersburg may be his home now, but it had been far too long since he went back to his family home. His parents would probably be delighted. Mari, too, not that she’d say it as openly—she’d probably give him some gruff greeting in lieu of saying how much she really missed him. Yuri missed her too.

Yuri rounded a corner, the rhythmic sound of his footfalls calming. He nodded at a few of the shopkeepers he regularly saw, calling out a quick “Good morning!”

Several smiled and responded with a wave; Yuri had been running past them every morning for a few years now, and they had since learned more about who he was beyond Victor’s husband. 

Yuri continued, on through the park. Yuri missed having Makkachin by his side—running through the park was always her favorite back when she was still able to accompany him on his runs. Sometimes she ran off to chase squirrels, but she never strayed out of Yuri’s line of sight. When he first moved to St. Petersburg, having her run alongside him was a much-needed familiar comfort. 

The path through the park ended at a crossroads. Yuri felt tension crawl into his shoulders, and he repressed a shiver. Yuri hadn’t felt particularly anxious during his morning run in over a year; it was normally relaxing for him, much like how dancing in Minako’s studio back in Hasetsu was. He hoped he could hurry home and join Victor in bed—Victor may not always know what to say, but his presence was certainly comforting whenever Yuri felt like this.  
He decided to cross the street and run back to the apartment instead of continuing along the normal route for his run. The sooner he got home, the better. Yuri jogged in place as he waited for the light to change. As soon as the walk sign lit up, he stepped out into the crosswalk.

He heard tires screeching to his left. Horns honking. He started to turn his head towards the sound. Suddenly, pain exploded all throughout his body, and he hit the pavement.

Stars danced across his vision. His chest burned as he tried to take a breath. What happened? Yuri tried to sit up, but his body wouldn’t listen. Someone was screaming. It was him, he belatedly realized. He could feel a headache settling in. Maybe if he just closed his eyes for a second, took a rest, he might feel a little better. Figure out what was going on.

\--

When he opened his eyes again, there was shouting. Sirens. Someone was talking to him in Russian. He blinked at them. They were wearing white and leaning over him. Yuri noticed a little red cross on their chest. A paramedic, then. 

“ _Can you tell me your name?_ ” the paramedic asked.

Yuri coughed, and his lips felt wet, “ _Yuri Katsuki-Nikiforov._ ”

“ _Alright, Mr. Katsuki-Nikiforov. We’re going to get you to a hospital. Can you hold on for me?_ ”

Yuri tried to nod, but found he had been strapped down, “ _Yes_ ,” he answered weakly. Something must have happened to him, he realized. His head was pounding and his skull felt like it had been stuffed with cotton balls.

The stretcher he was strapped to was lifted up and carried to an ambulance. Yuri groaned as his vision spun. He didn’t feel any pain besides his headache though, so that had to be good. Maybe he merely bumped his head and was just going to the hospital as a precaution? 

They loaded him into the back of the ambulance. Lights shone in his eyes, and he screwed his eyes shut. Something beeped off to his left. It felt like there was a weight on his chest. Yuri inhaled shakily. It was getting harder to breathe. Someone started shouting in Russian.

He pried his eyes open, and the paramedic was in his field of vision once more, “ _Stay with me, Mr. Katsuki-Nikiforov!_ ”

Yuri was confused. He was strapped to a stretcher. He couldn’t go anywhere. The thing to his left started beeping faster. His feet were starting to feel cold. He started to close his eyes once more.

“ _Mr. Katsuki-Nikiforov!_ ” the paramedic exclaimed, followed by more hurried Russian. Yuri was too tired to think about what they were saying. Something about opening his eyes.

This was all so ridiculous. He needed to get home in time to shower before Victor got up so they could make breakfast like they always did on Sunday mornings. His eyelids felt heavier and heavier with each passing second.

“Victor,” he wheezed, coughing wetly. 

The paramedic leaned close to him,“ _Mr. Katsuki-Nikiforov, please save your energy_ ,” they implored. 

Yuri gurgled and coughed once more. That weight on his chest was still there, and it felt like he was drowning. The cold feeling in his legs was creeping throughout the rest of his body. Maybe he should close his eyes again. Just for a moment. The paramedic said he had to save his energy.

Yuri eyelashes fluttered, and his body felt heavier. “Victor,” he murmured as his eyes slid shut.

\--

When Yuri opened his eyes again, he was in a hotel room. More specifically, he was sitting on the floor with his back against the door. His throat felt scratchy and his eyes puffy. His head felt like he hit it against the boards again like he did a few years ago at the regional championships. 

He pressed his palms against his eyes, even though he knew that it wouldn’t do anything to mitigate the pounding in his skull. How did he get such an awful headache again? 

There was knocking at the door.

“Yuri, are you in there?” Celestino called out, “The banquet starts in half an hour. I know you don’t want to go, but you have to make an appearance as one of the finalists.”

Yuri opened his eyes and sighed. This had to be some kind of sick joke that Celestino was playing on him. Phichit probably put him up to it or something. His phone was on the floor next to him. Yuri picked up his phone and looked at the date. It had to be wrong. December 9th, 2015. He was in _Sochi_ in _2015_.

Yuri slid open the lock screen and opened up his camera. The face staring back at him was wearing a pair of glasses that he hadn’t worn in two years following a prescription change. 

He screamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it for the beginning. The next chapter will delve into the banquet. I have a few chapters planned out but not yet written; however, I'm still not entirely sure where this fic will go. I elected to have the spoken Russian in italics instead of translating since I don't know the language (plus I think it makes it easier to read). I'm also assuming that Yuri can speak some Russian after living in St. Petersburg for so long.
> 
> More mature themes will come along eventually as the story progresses.
> 
> Please feel free to point out any errors. I edited the chapter, but I'm only human and make mistakes. Also: this is just for fun, and I'm not looking for any concrit
> 
> you can find me on tumblr at [ glaswitch ](https://glaswitch.tumblr.com)


	2. No One Like You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Celestino drags Yuri to the banquet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title for this chapter is from "No One Like You" by the Scorpions.
> 
> Special thanks to Kaitlyn for so many good ideas. You're fucking brilliant.

Yuri dropped his phone and pulled his knees up to his chest. This couldn’t be right. He couldn’t be in Sochi. He was just in St. Petersburg, going for his morning run. He was crossing the intersection to get home to Victor. It was their anniversary. And now he was in Sochi. 

This was wrong. This shouldn’t be happening. What was happening? Yuri buried his face in his knees and tried to breathe. His pulse was pounding in his ears. He had to remember his breathing exercises. In. Hold for seven seconds. Out. Exhale for seven seconds. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. He could almost hear Victor slowly coaching him through it just like he had so many times before. 

As he returned to his senses, he became aware of rapid knocking at his door. Celestino. _The banquet_. This had to be a nightmare. Or maybe it was hell. 

“Yuri? What’s going on?” Celestino banged urgently on the door. “Are you okay?”

Yuri stared at his phone lying on the floor, seeing the ceiling of his hotel room reflected on the screen. He hesitantly picked it up once more. He stared back at the young face in the camera with older eyes. This was real. God, he really had died and—Yuri abruptly stopped that train of thought. It would do him no good right now. 

“Yuri?” Celestino asked, softly this time.

Yuri tore his eyes away from his face and inhaled deeply once more, “I’m fine, Coach Celestino,” he rasped out, “I just...had a bad nightmare.”

“If you say so,” Celestino didn’t sound convinced, “Anyway, you have to get ready for the banquet. I know you don’t want to go, but you have to put in an appearance for sponsors. It should be relatively painless.”

Ha. Painless. Yuri sighed, “I understand. I’ll be ready to go in half an hour.”

Celestino was silent for a moment, and Yuri could feel his uncertainty through the door. Celestino had never been particularly good at handling Yuri when he was like this; that job was usually relegated to Phichit. 

“Very well. I’ll be back for you then.” Celestino finally responded, giving the door one last light tap before walking away. 

Yuri hummed his agreement, even though he could already hear Celestino’s footsteps fading as he walked back down the hall. He just had to get through tonight. He could do it. Afterwards, he would be able to freak out about his apparent death and the possibilities of time travel. For now though, he just had to get dressed and make it through the night. Yuri kept his eyes away from his reflection in the mirror, knowing that seeing his younger reflection would make things worse. He slipped on his trousers and then buttoned up his shirt carefully, finding comfort in the repetitive motion. Yuri picked his tie up from where it had been laid out on the bed by his younger self; he paused when he looked at the pale blue silk in his hand. 

The tie. That tie held so many memories. Victor had always claimed he would burn it, but when Yuri finally handed it over to him on their first anniversary to burn, he had merely tucked it away in a keepsakes box. 

When asked about it, Victor merely said “I was never going to actually burn it. I just wanted you to never wear such a hideous thing ever again. And besides, how could I throw away something that played such an important role in our lives? This tie brought us together.”

Yuri had rolled his eyes at Victor’s explanation—the tie was nowhere near as important as Victor claimed it was, but he humored him anyway. Victor was an over-the-top romantic, and Yuri loved him all the more for it. Yuri was never partial to fashion, but Victor’s staunch hatred of seeing him in the tie only made him love it more. He smiled fondly as he knotted the tie around his neck.

Celestino returned and knocked on the door just as Yuri was putting on his dress shoes. Yuri slipped his keycard and phone into his jacket pockets and opened up the door. Celestino’s face was laced with concern, and Yuri didn his best to give him a reassuring smile. Celestino’s eyebrows merely wrinkled, and Yuri let his shoulders drop.

“Let’s get this over with, Coach,” Yuri sighed. 

Celestino wrapped an arm around Yuri’s shoulders and gave him a quick squeeze. He knew that Yuri wasn’t feeling up to any of this but was proud of his student for putting on a brave face and doing it anyways. Yuri steeled himself as they stepped into the elevator.

—— 

Yuri’s breath hitched, and he ground to a stop right before the doors to the banquet hall. Maybe he couldn’t do this after all. Maybe he should just go back to his room. Maybe he should—Celestino reached out and lightly put his hand on Yuri’s arm. The touch was grounding, and Yuri took one last deep breath before pushing open the door. 

Very few looked up at their arrival, for which Yuri’s shoulders slumped in relief. He wasn’t sure if he could handle feeling all eyes on him right now. Yuri scanned the room for a familiar silvery blond mop of hair. When he found it, a pair of piercing blue eyes were looking back at him, and his heart skipped a beat. He forgot that Victor had noticed Yuri early on at the banquet the first time around; it should be no different now.

Yuri dropped his eyes and turned to Celestino, who was watching Yuri out of the corner of his eye, “Can we get this over with?”

Celestino nodded, clearly seeing the pain in Yuri’s eyes, “Of course. I’ll take you to meet a few of the sponsors.”

Yuri snagged a champagne flute off a waiter’s nearby tray and allowed Celestion to drag him around the room. During his time as Yuri’s coach, Victor had made sure that Yuri knew how to properly schmooze the sponsors all while being careful to only take small sips of his champagne. It was ingrained in him after all the banquets he attended with Victor over the course of the past few years. Celestino looked on proudly as his student handled them with ease, wondering when Yuri had gotten so proficient at dealing with something that he knew Yuri hated. 

As one of the sponsors droned on, Yuri looked around the room once more. And that pair of eyes met his once more. Yuri’s heart felt like it was in a vice. Those beautiful icy blue eyes belonged to a different Victor. These weren’t the eyes of the man Yuri was married to for three years; they were the eyes of a lonely man on top of the world. Victor tore his eyes away from Yuri’s as Yakov grabbed his attention, and Yuri took the opportunity to down the remaining half of his champagne in one long draught. 

Yuri could see Celestino watching him with concern once more, and he gave his coach a weak smile, “I’m fine coach. I think I’m going to grab another drink.”

Yuri left Celestino’s side and weaved through the crowd in search of a waiter. He was going to need a lot more champagne if he wanted to make it through the night. He could only hope that he wouldn’t completely lose control and have a repeat of his first Grand Prix Final banquet. 

As luck would have it, a waiter with a full tray passed him, and Yuri took two flutes from his tray. He drank them both in less than a minute, placing the empty glasses back on the tray with a quiet “Thank you”. 

He thought about how Victor had told him how miserable he was at the time; how he felt so completely lost in his life. This Victor was still feeling that way. Yuri squared his shoulders and took a deep breath. Things weren’t the same this time, and Yuri couldn’t do the same thing as last time, but he could do something. He could still make Victor smile; this time, he knew exactly what to do, and he didn’t need any liquid courage to do it. 

Now all he needed to do was find Chris. Yuri saw a flash of his two-toned undercut and began to make his way through the crowd, snagging one more flute of champagne for good luck. He could only hope that Chris had brought a pole again. He scanned the throng of people, only to spot that familiar mop of silver hair once more; Victor was positioned almost directly between him and Chris, and Yuri had an idea.

Yuri took a large sip of his lucky flute before deliberately bumping into Victor, spilling some of his champagne.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” Yuri asked him, doing his best to project an air of innocence.

Victor’s eyes widened, “Oh, uh, yeah. I’m fine. It’s alright.”

“I wasn’t looking where I was going and didn’t see you,” Yuri apologized, putting a hand on Victor’s forearm, “I’m really so sorry for spilling champagne on you.”

Victor looked down at the hand resting on his arm and blushed slightly. “I’m okay, really,” he responded, his mouth forming a tiny heart-shaped smile similar to the one Yuri loved dearly, “Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Yuri smiled slightly, his eyes twinkling at the sight of that familiar smile. “You have a beautiful smile, by the way,” he added.

Yuri removed his hand from Victor’s arm and walked away before Victor could say anything else, deliberately swaying his hips a little bit. He could feel Victor’s heated gaze on his back. Definitely a lucky flute of champagne. Now to shake it up.

“Hey Chris!” Yuri called out as soon as he laid eyes on the Swiss skater.

Chris turned at the sound of his name, a mischievous smile playing across his face when he realized who had called him. 

“Yuri! What a lovely surprise!” he exclaimed, pulling Yuri into a quick hug and kissing both of his cheeks.

Yuri smiled sheepishly, “Chris, I was wondering if you would like to dance with me?”

Chris gasped, “Yuri, how bold of you! I would love to!”

Yuri grinned, and his eyes took on an impish gleam, “Here’s the thing,” Yuri leaned in to speak into Chris’s ear, “I was thinking that maybe we could have a dance off? Your choice of style, of course.”

Chris grinned, “I have just the thing. Let me go set it up and tell the DJ to play something spicy.”

As Chris walked off to prepare everything, Yuri loosened his tie. He rolled his shoulders and walked off towards the bathroom, fully aware that Victor’s eyes hadn’t left him since he bumped into the other man. 

Yuri walked into the hotel bathroom, taking in the extravagant marble surfaces. He’d forgotten that the ISU had really splurged on the hotel for the skaters and the banquet this year. Yuri looked at his reflection in the mirror and willed himself not to think about the circumstances that brought him here. He sighed and took off his glasses, delicately placing them in the inside pocket of his suit jacket. As he slipped them into his jacket, his fingers stilled. He forgot that he carried a small tube of hair gel in his pocket just in case his hair fell out of place when he wore it back. Perfect. 

Yuri took out the tube and set it on the counter. He turned on the tap and ran his fingers under the water and then proceeded to wet his hair. He squeezed a small amount of gel onto his palm and rubbed his hands together before running his hands through his hair, thoroughly coating it. He didn’t have a comb, so his fingers were going to have to do. He smirked at his slightly blurry reflection as he ran his fingers through his hair; his hair looked more like sex hair than the normal style he did when he slicked it back for performances and events. 

‘Perfect,’ he thought to himself as he removed his tie. Celestino would no doubt give him hell for what he was about to do, but Yuri couldn’t find it in himself to care. Showing Victor a good time was far more important.

Yuri shucked his suit jacket and carried it over his arm with his tie as he left the bathroom. Victor was casually leaning against one of the columns outside, or at least he was attempting to look casual. Yuri could see right through him.

“Yuri Katsuki, right?” Victor began, walking alongside him, “Can we talk for a minute?”

Yuri bit his lip; he really wanted to talk to Victor, but he wasn’t sure if he could handle an in depth conversation right now. It was why he’d opted to go with dancing like he did the first time around. 

“I’m actually about to go join Chris for a dance,” Yuri responded as they returned to the banquet hall.

Victor paused, confusion playing across his features. “Wait, why are you—”

“Enjoy the show,” Yuri cut him off with a smirk, handing Victor his jacket and tie, and he sashayed over to where Chris was waiting for him next to the pole so that they could begin. 

Victor trailed behind Yuri, carrying his his jacket and tie. His jaw all but dropped when he saw the pole. Yuri was delighted. 

“Well, Chris,” Yuri turned to his partner in crime for the evening, “Shall we get started?”

Chris grabbed a bottle of champagne, “Absolutely,” he purred, “Let’s have some fun.”

The two shared a look as they unbuttoned their shirts; they had begun to capture the attention of others, and Yuri was grateful for the extra boost the champagne had given him. He was used to an audience, but there was a certain level of shame that came with stripping at an official ISU function. 

Chris had already removed his pants, and Yuri was quick to follow. He gathered up his clothes and tossed them to Victor, laughing at the shock that painted his face. Chris grabbed onto the pole and hoisted himself up and extended a hand to Yuri. Yuri took it and promptly hauled himself up alongside the Swiss skater. 

Chris gestured towards someone beyond Yuri’s field of vision, and music started playing. Yuri couldn’t help the giggle that burst from his lips when “Buttons” by The Pussycat Dolls started playing; Chris did like to go for the overtly sexual instead of the standard pulsating beat that accompanied most dancers at competitions. 

Chris leaned back and held himself up using just his thighs in a challenge to Yuri. Yuri twisted in response to hold himself upside down extend his legs above him in the splits. He couldn’t see it, but he had a sneaking suspicion that Victor’s eyes were glued to his ass. Chris moved between Yuri’s legs and hung upside down, the muscles in his thighs rippling as he gripped the pole. 

Refusing to be one-upped, Yuri twisted himself around the older man, and leaned in to whisper into Chris’s ear. The corners of his mouth twitched as he took in Yuri’s suggestion. Chris dismounted from the pole, and Yuri hung upside down one more, this time by his thighs. Chris picked the bottle of champagne off the floor and handed it to Yuri before climbing up the pole once more. 

The “Dance-off” had become more of a dance together as Chris assumed Yuri’s earlier position so that the Japanese man could stand on his thighs. Yuri shook the bottle of champagne, grinning as he made eye contact with Victor. Victor’s cheeks were flushed, but his eyes never left Yuri. Yuri popped open the bottle, and allowed champagne to spray over him and Chris. He took a few sips of the bottle before handing it to his companion.

Chris righted himself, and Yuri dropped himself down such that he held himself onto the pole using his thighs while mimicking sitting in Chris’s lap. Chris drank from the bottle, and then handed it off to the man who seemed to always be at his competitions. Chris shared a look with him, and the man nodded. Chris turned back to Yuri with an evil grin.

Chris ran his fingers along Yuri’s chin and winked at Victor before pulling Yuri in for a searing kiss. Yuri was surprised, but went along with it. It wasn’t like it was the first time he had done anything like this with Chris. When he pulled away, he made eye contact with Victor once more, and found himself surprised at the flicker of jealousy in the Russian’s eye. 

Yuri and Chris continued to twist around one another intimately for the last minute of so of the song. When it ended, they both dismounted from the pole, covered in a mixture of sweat and champagne. Both were flushed and breathing heavily—pole dancing was no easy feat, and it seemed as if the two were evenly matched.

Chris pulled Yuri in for a hug, “Yuri! That was wonderful,” he cajoled before leaning in to whisper in Yuri’s ear, “Although I think there’s someone who wants to talk to you.”

Yuri glanced over to see Victor fidgeting and disentangled himself from Chris, “I had a lot of fun, Chris.”

As Yuri walked over towards Victor, Chris called out “Use protection!”.

Yuri’s face burned, and he hurried over to get his clothes from the man he had kept waiting. Yuri took the proffered clothes and hurriedly slipped into his pants. He hastily buttoned up his shirt, once more aware of the eyes of everyone in the banquet hall on the them. Yuri nervously shot a look over his shoulder at Chris, hoping that he would understand even if they weren’t the closest of friends at this point in time.

Chris nodded slightly at Yuri’s glance and threw his arms into the air, “Dance party!” he cheered, directing all the attention in the room back to himself.

Yuri breathed a sigh of relief and turned his attention back to Victor, who was still holding Yuri’s suit jacket. 

“Why don’t we find somewhere more quiet to talk?” Victor suggested, gently taking hold of Yuri’s elbow and steering the two out of the banquet hall.

As soon as they were out of sight, Victor pushed Yuri up against one of the columns in the hallway. Yuri’s eyes widened as Victor leaned over him. Victor pressed his forehead to Yuri’s and stayed silent like that for a moment.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” Victor breathed, “I hardly know you, but watching you dance with Chris like that, and oh God. You’re just so...exquisite.”

Victor’s pupils were blown wide, and Yuri was sure that his matched. Victor’s presence was intoxicating, and Yuri reached up to cup Victor’s face. Victor closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. Yuri pulled him in gently, giving him time to refuse. When Victor didn’t move away, Yuri wrapped his other hand around the back of Victor’s neck and pulled him down into a kiss. If kissing Chris was hot, then kissing Victor was like Yuri’s whole body had been set on fire. 

Sparks traveled down his spine as his lips moved against once familiar ones. The hand on the back of Victor’s neck moved to tangle in his hair, and Victor moaned into the kiss. Eventually, Victor pulled away from him, and Yuri almost couldn’t see the ring of Victor’s blue irises. 

“Let’s get out of here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please feel free to point out any errors. I have had some wine lol
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated!
> 
> you can find me on tumblr at [ glaswitch ](https://glaswitch.tumblr.com)
> 
> Also: this is just for fun, and I'm not looking for any concrit. Thanks!


	3. (I Just) Died In Your Arms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri throws aside his better judgement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title for this chapter is from "(I Just) Died In Your Arms" by Cutting Crew.
> 
> This chapter does contain a graphic description of sexual content. You can skip to the page break if you want to avoid it and just get some plot.

Yuri shivered and grabbed Victor’s hand, pulling him towards the elevator. A small giggle burst forth from his lips as he tugged the older man along. A small part of his brain insisted that this wasn’t a good idea, but Yuri had had just enough champagne to think otherwise. 

When the elevator doors opened, Yuri pulled Victor in and pressed him up against the mirrored wall. Yuri moved his lips to Victor’s neck while simultaneously untucking his shirt so his hands could roam over Victor’s chest. Victor’s hands moved to grab Yuri’s ass, and Yuri moaned into the kiss, pressing himself closer to Victor. 

Yuri momentarily detached himself from Victor’s neck, realizing that he forgot to hit the button for the floor. Yuri went to hit the seventeen, but Victor swatted his hand away and pressed thirty two.

“I have the king suite,” he murmured into Yuri’s ear before nipping at his earlobe. 

By the time the elevator doors opened again, Yuri’s neck was covered with freshly forming hickeys, and Victor had a few as well. Victor grabbed Yuri’s hand once more and all but dragged him down the hall to his room. Victor crowded Yuri up against the door while he patted down his pockets for his room key. Yuri slipped his hand into the inner pocket of Victor’s suit jacket and procured it for him—in all the time that Yuri has known Victor, he always puts his key card there and always forgets about it by the time they get to the room. 

Victor inserted the key card into the door, and as soon as it flashed green, he swung the door open and ushered Yuri in. He spun and pushed Yuri up against the door, closing it behind them. Yuri wrapped his hands around Victor’s face, gently stroking his cheek with his thumb. The corners of Victor’s mouth formed a small smile, and Yuri pulled him in close for another kiss.

What started out as gentle quickly turned hot again, and Victor reached down to hook his hands behind Yuri’s thighs. In an instant, Victor lifted Yuri up so that he was balanced against the wall with Victor’s hands holding his thighs for support. Yuri made a small noise of surprise and wrapped his arms around Victor’s neck. Victor kissed along Yuri’s jawline, and Yuri’s head fell back against the door with a thunk when he sucked at the spot where his jaw met his ear.

Victor chuckled against Yuri’s skin, “So sensitive,” he teased.

Yuri pulled at Victor’s hair, “Less talking, more kissing,” he ordered.

“So demanding,” Victor chided before kissing down Yuri’s neck. He nosed beneath Yuri’s collar to bite down at Yuri’s pulse point, soothing the skin with his tongue. 

Yuri pushed at Victor’s suit jacket, “Off.”

Victor reluctantly lowered Yuri back to his feet so that he could shuck his jacket, stifling another chuckle at the slight shake of Yuri’s legs. Yuri caught the twinkle in Victor’s eyes and smiled slyly. He stepped away from Victor, leaving the blond standing by the door, swaying his hips as he walked further into the suite and slid his own suit jacket off of him. 

Victor’s own hands stilled from where they were working at his tie—the sight of Yuri slowly slipping out of his own clothing was incredibly captivating. Yuri hadn’t bothered to retie his tie, so it slid down to join his jacket on the floor immediately. Next, his pants. Yuri made eye contact with Victor and licked his lips as he started to unbutton his shirt at a tortuously slow pace. He then stepped out of sight and into the bedroom area of the suite. 

Victor hastily unbuttoned his shirt and stepped out his pants shortly after. Once he was free of his clothing, he hurried after Yuri, almost tripping over his own feet in a rush to feel Yuri against him once more. 

He paused in the doorway to the bedroom—Yuri was standing in front of the window in just his black boxer briefs. Yuri had one hand up against the glass as he stared out across Sochi, and the lights from the city illuminated a wistful expression. Yuri turned when he noticed Victor watching him and smiled gently, his eyes twinkling. 

His expression turned more playful as he crooked a single finger at Victor in a ‘come hither’ motion. He leaned back against the window and began palming himself over his boxer briefs. His head fell back, and his eyes closed as he moaned. Victor’s jaw dropped. 

Yuri cracked open an eye, taking in the sight of Victor standing in the doorway completely naked, his mouth hanging open. His cock was standing at attention, curved slightly to the right just like Yuri remembered. Yuri felt his mouth water at the sight. 

“Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to fuck me?” Yuri asked, “I don’t like waiting.”

Victor’s mouth snapped shut audibly, and a smirk that mirrored Yuri’s made its way onto his face, “Maybe I’m enjoying the view.”

Yuri cocked an eyebrow at him and dropped his underwear without any preamble, moving to stroke his own leaking cock. He faced away from Victor once more to look out over the city, casually using the other hand to tease at the cleft of his ass.

He threw a look over his shoulder at Victor, “This would be a lot easier with lube, you know,” he quipped.

Victor swallowed and hurried over to rifle through his suitcase, letting out a small cry of victory when he procured a bottle of lube and a box of condoms. He got one out and then put the box on the nightstand. He set the condom on the bed, and squeezed a generous amount of lube onto his fingers before setting the bottle down on the bed too. He moved to stand behind Yuri, trailing a clean finger down Yuri’s spine. Yuri shivered and grabbed Victor’s lubed hand to direct it to where he needed it most. 

Victor circled his rim with a lubed finger twice before slowly pushing in. Yuri relaxed instantly at the familiar feeling. Victor trailed kisses along his shoulder while simultaneously stretching Yuri. He slipped a second finger in as he bit down on Yuri’s shoulder blade, making Yuri gasp. Yuri clenched momentarily around Victor’s fingers before thrusting back against them encouragingly. Victor took that as his cue to continue and scissored his fingers. 

Victor curled his fingers so that they brushed against Yuri’s prostate. Yuri moaned, and his head fell forward against the window. Victor wrapped his other hand around Yuri to tease his cock, working from his balls to the tip back and forth. Victor withdrew his fingers, and Yuri whined at the loss of contact. Before long, Victor was pressing three fingers into him, cold from the application of more lube. 

Yuri pushed back eagerly, and Victor chuckled against his skin. As Victor continued to tease Yuri, Yuri threw his head back so that he could press his mouth against Victor’s jaw. Yuri trailed a few kisses down his jaw before biting. 

“More,” he hissed, “I need you.”

Victor removed his fingers once more and walked back over to the bed to grab the condom. He carefully opened the wrapper with his teeth, making sure not to tear the condom within. He rolled it over his length and slicked himself up. Yuri was bracing himself against the window with his forearms and sending him a dirty look over his shoulder because Victor had opted to stare at Yuri once more.

“Did you need something?” Victor teasingly asked.

Yuri growled, “Yes. Your dick in my ass, fucking me until I can’t think.”

Victor sputtered. Yuri threw him another pointed look, and Victor walked back towards him. Yuri hungrily eyed Victor’s cock as Victor stalked closer to him. When Victor pressed up against Yuri, Yuri pressed back eagerly. 

Victor lined himself up and pushed in slowly, and Yuri exhaled. After Victor was fully seated in Yuri, he waited for Yuri to adjust. Yuri clenched down and began moving almost immediately, having grown accustomed to the feeling over the past few years. Victor moaned and moved in time with Yuri. He angled his thrusts a few different ways, trying to find Yuri’s prostate like he had before. He knew when he found it because Yuri moaned loudly and his knees almost gave out on him. Victor wrapped a hand around Yuri’s stomach to hold him up. 

Yuri braced his arms against the window, “Harder,” he choked out.

Victor obliged, and pounded into Yuri efficiently, hitting his prostate with every thrust. Sweat was dripping from both of their foreheads, and Yuri could only imagine if someone were to look up and see him getting fucked by Victor against the window of the king suite. 

The thought had him coming across the glass with a choked gasp, and Victor soon followed. Victor pulled out and knotted the condom, and led Yuri to the bed. The two flopped down next to one another and caught their breath. 

Before long, Yuri began to stir with arousal once more. He pushed himself up onto his elbows and gave Victor a challenging look, “Round two?”

Victor rolled over on top of him with a giggle.

—

Yuri woke up around dawn, having only slept for about two hours. He took in the sight of Victor in the pale light, the hickeys Yuri left over him illuminated slightly. The sight of the sheet lying across his lower back and his faced squashed into the pillow. The small puddle of drool next to his mouth. Yuri felt a rush of love at the sight of him. 

Shit. Yuri sat up abruptly. He slept with Victor. He slept with _Victor_. The Victor from this time who he’s _not married to because Yuri died_. Yuri clapped a hand over his mouth to restrain the sob that threatened to break forth. Yuri slipped out from the bed and dashed into the bathroom. He inhaled shakily and tried to steady himself. He had never been more grateful that Victor was a heavy sleeper. 

Yuri splashed cold water on his face, trying to get a hold of himself, ‘Keep it together,’ he thought to himself. He returned from the bathroom and let his eyes sweep around the suite. He grimaced at the sight of his dried semen on the window—at least he cleaned off what was on him last night when they had sex in the shower for round four before finally passing out. Not that Victor had any complaints about his stamina—the opposite, really. 

Yuri moved around the room quietly, redressing himself quickly. Most of his clothes were in one place in the bedroom after he dropped his jacket in the hall to tease Victor. Victor stirred while Yuri was buttoning up his shirt, and Yuri froze. He rolled over, and Yuri let out a breath that he didn’t know he had been holding. Yuri finished buttoning up his shirt and hurried out of the bedroom. He scooped his suit jacket off the floor and patted the pockets, letting out a sigh of relief when he discovered that his own key card was still in the inner pocket. 

Yuri slipped out the door, closing it quietly behind him. Thankfully, the hallway was empty, allowing Yuri to walk his brief walk of shame in piece. And he was ashamed. This wasn’t his Victor. It felt wrong. Yuri stepped into the elevator with his head bowed when it arrived, and pressed the button for the seventeenth floor. 

He all but ran to his own room, hastily shoving the key card into the door. Once it was unlocked, he threw the door open and hurried inside. Panic was bubbling up inside him once more, and Yuri rifled through his luggage for a bottle of Xanax. He popped two and leaned against the wall, letting himself slide to the floor. He put his head between his knees and took deep breaths. 

There was a knocking at the door, and Yuri’s head snapped up. It couldn’t be— 

“Yuri, we have to catch the shuttle to the airport in twenty minutes. Get out of bed,” Celestino called through the door.

Yuri struggled to find his voice, “I’ll be out in ten minutes.”

“Meet me in the lobby,” Celestino responded.

Yuri called out an affirmation and got to his feet. He threw his belongings into his suitcase, grateful that almost everything had already been repacked when he arrived in his younger self’s body. He removed last night’s suit and switched it out for a comfortable pair of sweats and his favorite brown overcoat. He pulled a beanie over his head and wrapped a scarf around his neck to hide the hickeys that Victor left on him. Yuri slid on his sneakers, grabbed the handle of his suitcase, and walked out the door.

He handed Celestino his key card as soon as he got down to the lobby, and his coach went to check them both out. Yuri turned as he saw a flash of golden blonde hair in the corner of his eye, but it was gone when he looked. He noticed a few members of the hotel staff looking at him, and he buried his face in his scarf, wishing that the floor would eat him alive. Eventually, Celestino left the front desk and the attendant that he had been flirting with, leading Yuri to the shuttle that was waiting to take them to the airport. 

Yuri sat silently in the car and stared out the window while Celestino chatted with the driver. He hadn’t missed Sochi in his old life, and he didn’t think he would miss it now. A few minutes later, they got to the airport, checked their bags, and Yuri plugged his phone in while they waited in the terminal for their flight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please feel free to point out any errors!
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated!
> 
> you can find me on tumblr at [ glaswitch ](https://glaswitch.tumblr.com)
> 
> Also: this is just for fun, and I'm not looking for any concrit. Thanks!


	4. Man In Motion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri has a lot of time to think on the flight back to Detroit from Sochi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to update. College has been kicking my ass ( ຈ ﹏ ຈ )
> 
> Chapter title is from "St Elmo's Fire [Man In Motion]" by John Parr
> 
> [This](http://www.airlinereporter.com/2013/01/photos-aeroflots-livery-on-their-first-boeing-777-300er-virtual-interior-tour/) is what I used as a reference for the airplane since the only flight I've ever been on was a short commuter flight from BWI to Boston

They flew business class back to Detroit. Yuri would have preferred economy because it was cheaper, but Celestino insisted that they fly business because he needed the extra space. Plus, the JSF sponsored Yuri to fly there and back, so he might as well take advantage of it according to his coach. The two of them sat in the aisle on the right side of the cabin, with Celestino taking the window seat. For as bad as his anxiety was, Yuri was never a nervous flyer, but Celestino certainly was and needed to look out the window during takeoff.

 

It was a long flight, and they had two layovers scheduled: first in Moscow, and then later in Baltimore. The first leg of the flight was relatively quiet. It was a shorter flight at only about two hours, and Yuri spent the first half of it staring at the back of the seat in front of him. He couldn’t believe what he had done. He _slept with Victor_.

 

He wasn’t even that drunk. How could he have lost control that badly to sleep with a version of his husband that wasn’t _his_? Yuri felt like he was going to be sick.

 

He got up out of his seat, taking care not to startle an already snoring Celestino. It was early enough, and several other passengers were dozing in their seats still, so Yuri moved as quietly as he could down the aisle back towards the bathroom.

 

“Everything alright sir?” One of the flight attendants asked him in heavily accented English when he reached the end of the aisle.

 

Yuri nodded, “Yeah,” he responded, “Just a bit nervous, I suppose.”

 

She smiled gently, “Let me know if you require any assistance.”

 

“Thank you,” Yuri mumbled as he walked past her towards the empty bathroom.

 

Yuri locked the door behind him and hunched over the sink, breathing hard. He closed his eyes and saw flashes of the night before—up against the window, on the bed, on the counter in the kitchenette (he felt bad for the hotel staff about that), and then slow and sweet in one of the nicest showers Yuri had ever been in.

 

The memory of hands on him that he knew so well, hands that Yuri loved, was seared into his brain. He slept with a different Victor. He slept with someone who wasn’t his husband.

 

He leaned over the toilet and retched.

 

He gagged, coughing violently. Eventually, he felt like he could breathe again.

 

Yuri found himself thinking back to the philosophy class on time travel that he had taken back when he had been in college the first time. There was something about time loops and causality. And the concept of personhood; Yuri was pretty sure he was still a person, but he didn’t think he was really the same anymore.

 

Yuri had died—he wasn’t the same man who was happily married to a retired Victor Nikiforov anymore, really. That Yuri was gone. He was a shell of him, a ghost of him. And he wasn’t the same Yuri that he was before falling in love with Victor. That Yuri never slept with Victor at the Grand Prix Final banquet. The same could be said for Victor. Neither was who they used to be anymore. And Yuri wasn’t married anymore, not really. Victor would still always be the one for him though, Yuri knew that no matter where he ended up, it would always be Victor.

 

But Yuri did seduce Victor at the banquet again. Did that mean that either way he would end up in some sort of causality loop where they’d fall in love once more, and he’d die three years into their marriage again? Yuri didn’t want that. He wanted to be married to Victor for thirty years instead of three. And maybe that was it. Yuri wasn’t the same, after all—and he didn’t want to be. He didn’t have to be.

 

Yuri straightened back up and left the bathroom. Thankfully, no line had formed while he was in there, and the flight attendant who asked him if he needed help earlier smiled warmly at him. He got back to his seat and saw Celestino looking at him with concern.

 

“Better?” Celestino asked him quietly.

 

Yuri chewed on his bottom lip, “You know what? I think I am.”

 

Celestino clapped him on the shoulder, “I’m glad to hear it. We’ve only got a little bit of time to get ready for the Japanese Nationals.”

 

Yuri couldn’t fight the small smile that worked itself across his face. He wasn’t ready to go down in an earlier round this time.

 

—

 

The layover was mercifully short, and the two of them were back in the air after a quick coffee break. Now that Yuri had come to terms with everything that happened, he could get down to business and really make sure that this season was different this time. It was time to plan.

 

As soon as he got the all clear, Yuri opened up his laptop and got to work. He started with locating “On Love: Eros”, which was much easier than he expected. He emailed the composer to make sure that Victor hadn’t already locked down the music, and the composer had been able to get back to him almost immediately and informed him that no one else had requested to use that music this season. Yuri sighed in relief, ignoring the look that Celestino gave him.

 

He wasn’t ready to tell Celestino about his plans until he was absolutely sure that he had both pieces of music. He wanted to have them in time for Nationals, but he still remembered his old routines in the event that he wasn’t ready. As much as he wished he could forget those routines, every turn, twizzle, spin, and jump was burned into his memory—he couldn’t forget them if he tried.

 

He’d rather not perform them again if he could help it though. It was time to message Phichit to see if he could put him in touch with the conservatory student who made “Yuri On Ice” for him. Thankfully, Phichit would probably be awake despite the time difference. “Twitter doesn’t sleep, Yuri!” was what he said by way of explanation the last time Yuri commented on his sleeping habits.

 

**Phichit Chulanont**

 

You know that composer who made me that demo? Malia?

Do you have her number?

 

yuri, my best bro, light of my life. i am here for u

i’ve got ur back. her number is XXX-XXX-XXXX

Thanks.

 

y do u need it

 

I’d like to see if she’ll re-do it for me

 

y

 

Because.

 

yuri y r u holding out on me. what r u planning

 

Nothing.

 

young man, we will have words. how dare u hold out on me

 

First, I’m older than you. Second, we’ll talk when I get back.

I need to talk to you.

 

i gotchu babe. number one bro right here. number one yuri stan.

vice president of the yuri katsuki fan club. ur Bro™

 

Thanks

 

**XXX-XXX-XXXX**

 

Hi, Malia? It’s Yuri Katsuki.

 

Yuri! Hi! How are you!

 

Fine, thanks. I was wondering if you could do me a favor?

 

Sure! What do you need?

 

Would you be able to redo the demo you made for me?

I’m trying to turn this season around.

 

Yeah, I think so. How soon do you need it?

 

As soon as you can, if that’s alright.

 

Gimme a week.

 

Thank you so much. What do I owe you for it?

 

Nothing. Just do your best with it :)

 

Thank you.

 

Yuri slumped back in his seat. He still had a few other things to take care of. He needed to make sure that he had costumes, and he needed to run through the choreography. Yuri was going to have to make a few changes to it though. He wasn’t risking any sort of time loops happening, and changing up the _Eros_ routine slightly should help.

 

Yuri tended to sleep on flights, and with everything he’d been doing, Celestino looked like he was dying to ask him what was going on. He might as well clue him in a little bit.

 

“Hey, Coach?” Yuri began tentatively, “I, um, I have some ideas for the rest of the season.”

 

Celestino grinned, “Excellent. What do you have in mind?”

 

Yuri bit his lip, “I know it’s a little late in the season for it, but I was thinking that maybe I could change my programs?”

 

“What?” Celestino exclaimed, startling the other passengers, “All this because of you had a bad day? Yuri, I think you’re overreacting a bit. We can make some changes, but—”

 

“I have a plan,” Yuri interjected, cutting him off, “And it’s not just because the Final. I feel like I haven’t been connecting with my programs. It…it doesn’t feel right. I have an idea for choreography already, too.”

 

Celestino nodded sagely, “I understand. Show it to me when we start practice again on Monday. Until then, I want you to rest. You need it.”

 

“Thank you,” Yuri said quietly, “I won’t let you down.”

 

“You never have,” Celestino replied, clapping Yuri on the shoulder.

 

—

 

The layover at Baltimore-Washington International Airport was a few hours. Celestino spent it returning phone calls and checking up on the assistant coaches that he left in charge while they were in Sochi.

 

Yuri had a phone call to make himself. He steeled himself and pressed ‘call’.

 

_“Hello?”_

 

Yuri closed his eyes, smiling at the sound of his mother’s voice, “Hi Mom.”

 

 _“Yuri! Are you feeling any better?”_ His mother fretted, and Yuri heard a beeping sound, _“You know we are all so proud of you, and we love you very much.”_

 

“I am,” Yuri reassured her, “I’m feeling a lot better than I was earlier. I think I’m going to be okay this season. And I love you too. Even Mari”

 

Yuri could hear a snort in the background. He had a feeling his mom had put him on speaker, _“Love you too, little bro.”_ Mari called back.

 

Yuri laughed, and his parents updated him on everything that was going on in Hasetsu from Minako’s remodeling of her snack bar to the Nishigori triplets’ grades. Mari had since left the conversation, but his mother still kept her voice low as she informed him that Mari had gone on a few dates with a “lovely young lady” recently. His mother continued talking to him while she bustled around in the kitchen, presumably getting ready for the lunch rush.

 

Overhead, Yuri heard the intercom call out for them to board the plane once more for the last leg of their trip, “I have to go, Mom. They just called for us to board.”

 

 _“Have a safe flight,”_ she implored, _“I love you very much. No matter what.”_

 

Yuri bit his lip and fought back tears, “I love you too, Mom. Bye.”

 

Celestino returned to Yuri’s side as he was wiping away tears, “Everything alright?”

 

“Yeah,” Yuri answered. It was just like his mom to know exactly what he needed to hear even thousands of miles away.

 

Together, him and Celestino settled into their seats and slept for the majority of the flight back to Detroit.

 

—

 

It felt like the plane landed right after Yuri closed his eyes. He knew he should have spent more time sleeping on the plane to deal with the jet lag, but he had more important things to worry about. He was all but dead on his feet as they disembarked and walked through the airport, Celestino’s hand on his back guiding him along.

 

Last time he did this, Yuri had been in a daze the entire 25 hour flight and all through the return back to his dorm. He couldn’t remember what happened or what was said between him and Celestino. Yuri was relieved to find, upon reaching baggage claim, that there was no one waiting for them at the airport. He wasn’t sure he would be able to handle the looks they might give him—smiles tinged with pity while they told him how proud they were of him. He hadn’t given them a reason to be proud yet.

 

When they got back to the dorm, Phichit was practically vibrating with excitement. Yuri waved him off with the promise of talking when he woke up—the jet lag had really started to hit, and he desperately needed to sleep. He took one look at his walls and smiled faintly, remembering when a different Victor found his poster collection—he signed them all, too. Yuri crawled into his bed, and as he fell asleep, he found himself thinking about all the new memories he’d get to form.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please feel free to point out any errors!
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated!
> 
> you can find me on tumblr at [ glaswitch ](https://glaswitch.tumblr.com)
> 
> Also: this is just for fun, and I'm not looking for any concrit. Thanks!


	5. I Melt With You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phichit and Yuri have a heart to heart, and history repeats itself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> college is really hard, my friends. especially an astrophysics degree. but good news! I finished the semester, and I got 2 A's, a B, and a B-. I have officially survived my 3rd year of college
> 
> updates should be closer together for the duration of the summer because my work schedule is pretty chill :)
> 
> chapter title is from "I Melt With You" by Modern English

Yuri groaned as he woke up. It had to be sometime late at night, but he would have to check the time to be sure. He rolled over and tried to fumble for his phone, hitting something soft and warm instead. When Yuri opened his eyes, it was to Phichit’s black ones about two inches away from his face. Yuri jumped back and hit his head against the wall.

 

“Oh shit! I’m so sorry, Yuri!” Phichit apologized, reaching out to help Yuri sit up.

 

Yuri rubbed the back of his head, “Ah, it’s fine, Phichit.”

 

Phichit grinned, crawled onto Yuri’s bed, and sat next to him, “I believe you owe me details about the Grand Prix Final.”

 

Yuri sighed, “Are you going to give me a chance to brush my teeth first?”

 

“Actually, yeah, get rid of that morning breath,” Phichit scooted over to give Yuri room to get out of bed.

 

Yuri hobbled off to the bathroom to pee and brush his teeth. When he returned, Phichit was sprawled out on his bed scrolling through his phone.

 

“Hey, scoot over,” Yuri ordered, shoving at Phichit’s leg.

 

Phichit groaned dramatically as if he were an old man and slowly moved so he was sitting up with his back against the wall.

 

Yuri moved to get onto the bed next to him.

 

“Wait, wait, wait wait wait!” Phichit exclaimed.

 

Yuri froze, “What?”

 

Phichit made grabby hands, “Give me Arthur! I need to snuggle with him while you tell me all about your wild adventures with your beloved Victor!”

 

Yuri choked on his spit—Phichit didn’t realize just how spot on he was. He pulled Arthur out of his cage on Phichit’s desk and handed him off to his best friend. After Phichit got Arthur situated and lying on his chest, Yuri hopped back up onto the bed to sit next to him.

 

Yuri grabbed his phone from where it was sitting on his nightstand and turned it over in his hands. Phichit sat patiently and waited for him to begin, knowing better than to push right then.

 

“I don’t know where to begin,” Yuri admitted sheepishly.

 

Phichit smiled gently, “How about at the beginning?”

 

Yuri took a deep breath, “Well, it all started when I died.”

 

Phichit lurched forward, almost sending Arthur flying. He quickly grabbed the hamster and grabbed onto Yuri with his free hand.

 

“What?!” He screeched.

 

Yuri winced and proceeded to tell Phichit everything that happened up until he woke up in the hotel room. As talkative as Phichit was, Yuri knew that he wouldn’t breathe a word of Yuri’s time travelling headache to a soul.

 

After he finished recounting his life before the current timeline, Phichit carefully set Arthur down next to him on the duvet, and he wrapped Yuri in a bone-crushing hug.

 

“Oh Yuri, I’m so sorry,” He murmured, “No one should have to go through any of that alone.”

 

Phichit pulled back a little and looked Yuri in the eye, “This feels a little bit like a weird sci-fi movie, but I have no doubt that you’ve told me the truth. Thank you for sharing this with me—I know it can’t have been easy to talk about.”

 

Yuri buried his face in Phichit’s shoulder, “Thank you,” he whispered, “I needed to tell someone.”

 

Phichit patted Yuri’s back comfortingly, “Maybe we should order some food before we finish with this. Sound good?”

 

Yuri nodded into Phichit’s shoulder.

 

“ _Katsudon_?” Phichit suggested, “I know the Japanese place doesn’t make it as good as your mom, but you still liked it.”

 

Yuri froze before nodding once more, “Just this once.”

 

“Of course,” Phichit answered, pulling up the app on his phone and putting in their orders, “It’ll be about forty minutes.”

 

Yuri hummed and pulled his knees up to his chest, resting his cheek on one. Arthur climbed up his sweatpants and sat on top of his other knee. Arthur nosed at Yuri’s nose, nibbling slightly before sitting back.

 

“Thanks?”

 

Arthur stared at him a little longer before scurrying back down his pants leg. Phichit scooped the hamster up and set him down on his chest once more.

 

“Awww, he likes you,” Phichit cooed, “I’m glad. He liked the old you too!”

 

Yuri stiffened, and Phichit’s eyes widened.

 

“Oh my god, Yuri, I’m so sorry. I know that you’re still Yuri and all and—”

 

“Phichit,” Yuri cut him off, “It’s fine. I’m not really the same Yuri so it’s alright. I’m glad that Arthur likes me.”

 

Phichit slumped in relief, “It’s just…this is a lot, and it’s kind of hard to take in.”

 

“I understand,” Yuri replied, “It was a lot for me. Still is, really.”

 

Phichit’s phone rang.

 

“Oh! That’s our _katsudon_!” Phichit cheered, “I’m gonna go get that, and then you can fill me in on everything from your X-Files moment all the way up until now!”

 

“Now?” Yuri asked, “Not up until I got back from Sochi?”

 

“Nope! Until now!”

 

Yuri groaned, and Phichit skipped to their door to greet the delivery guy. He paid the guy and skipped back to join Yuri on the bed, armed with two steaming bowls of _katsudon_. The two dug in.

 

“Mow tilll me abbbf whaf happef af fuh final,” Phichit said around a mouthful of rice.

 

Yuri stared at him, “Um, what?”

 

Phichit swallowed, “Now tell me about what happened at the final!”

 

Yuri groaned, “Do I have to?”

 

“Oh hell yes,” Phichit grinned.

 

“Fine,” Yuri sighed, “Well, as you know, I woke up in my hotel room in Sochi right before the banquet happened. I told you about how the first time I went through the final, Vicchan died the night before?”

 

Yuri’s breath hitched, “Well, during the flight, I checked some of the news outlets, and it turns out the exact same thing happened to my performance. I also had a text from Mari apologizing for letting him get hit by a car even though it wasn’t really her fault.”

 

Phichit set down his bowl of _katsudon_ to give Yuri another hug, “I’m so sorry, Yuri. I know how much he meant to you.”

 

Yuri hugged back before picking up his bowl of _katsudon_ and resuming eating, “I’ve had some time to deal, but I still feel it today. Anyway, Celestino dragged me to the banquet again.”

 

“Again?” Phichit prompted.

 

“It’s a long story,” Yuri answered between bites, “It involved pole dancing, sixteen flutes of champagne, and me drunkenly asking Victor to be my coach.”

 

“What?!” Phichit screamed, effectively destroying Yuri’s eardrum.

 

Yuri shrugged, “It’s sort of how we got together the first time. But that didn’t happen this time around.”

 

Phichit hummed, “So what _did_ happen?”

 

Yuri chewed on his bottom lip, “Do I _have_ to?”

 

“Yes! We’re best friends! I think there’s a law or something.”

 

Yuri groaned and put aside his now empty bowl of _katsudon_ , “Fine. But you can’t breathe a word of this. It stays in this room.”

 

Phichit mimed zipping his lips shut, “I won’t tell a soul.”

 

“Okay, well,” Yuri paused,, “I don’t think I have a good way of explaining this so IgottipsyandpoledancedatthebanquetandthensleptwithVicotrfourdifferentwaysinhishotelsuiteafterwards?”

 

Phichit stared at him, “Um, what? I need you to repeat that a bit more slowly.”

 

Yuri blushed furiously, “I got tipsy and pole danced at the banquet and then slept with Victor four different ways in his hotel suite afterwards?”

 

Phichit screamed and fell off the bed.

 

Yuri caught Arthur, and he got up to put the hamster back in his cage where he would be safe from any more flailing, stepping over his still screeching owner on the floor.  Yuri nudged Phichit with his foot, and when Phichit moved to laughing until he was clutching at his sides, Yuri stepped back over him to grab his skates.

 

Phichit managed to stop, and sat up, “Four? Really?”

 

“Yes, four,” Yuri said with a sigh, “Um, the window, the bed, the kitchenette, and then the shower. I feel kinda bad for the hotel staff.”

 

“Wow,” Phichit chuckled, “That’s excessive.”

 

Yuri rubbed the back of his neck, “We kinda got carried away.”

 

Phichit waggled his eyebrows at him, “Good thing there’s the legendary Katsuki stamina.”

 

“Stop that,” Yuri hissed, kicking Phichit lightly, “I’m going to practice.”

 

Yuri could feel Phichit’s eyes on his back as he walked out the door, snagging his backpack and  ignoring the round of laughter that started up once more as he made his way out. He needed to get on the ice.

 

—

 

Yuri had never been more grateful that he had a key to the Detroit Skate Club. Celestino had pulled a few strings for him so that Yuri could get in and skate after hours whenever he felt anxious. He just had to remember to Zamboni the ice afterwards, which wasn’t a big deal since Ice Castle Hasetsu asked that he did the same whenever he skated late at night  there when he was younger.

 

He dropped his backpack off in the changing room and laced up his skates. It would be the first time he’d skated since his last practice with his husband in St. Petersburg. Yuri swallowed around the lump that had formed in his throat and stepped onto the ice. He set his phone down on the boards and pulled on his gloves.

 

He set off, skating compulsory figures. Nothing seemed to help calm him down like they did, and he lamented their removal from competitions—Yuri would have excelled at that aspect of competitive figure skating.  

 

Yuri didn’t know how much time had passed, but he found himself in the middle of the ice in a familiar position.

 

 _“Sento una voce che piange lontano,_ ” Yuri could hear the song in his head as he brought his right hand down alongside his face.

 

He moved out from the center, performing the choreography fluidly.

 

He remembered all of the joy his first performance of the skate had brought him, and the subsequent joy from performing the pair skate version. They had so much fun putting that together, even if Victor dropped him more times than he would have preferred.

 

_“Anche tu, sei stato forse abbandonato?”_

 

A quad Lutz. Yuri thought he saw something out of the corner of his eye, but he couldn’t bring himself to pay attention. He was drawn into the routine.

 

_“Orsù finisco presto questo calice di vino”_

 

A quad Flip—Victor’s signature move that eventually  became a staple of Yuri’s routines as well after the Grand Prix Final in Barcelona. He found his eyes slipping shut as he continued to be immersed.

 

_“e inizio a prepararmi_

_Adesso fa’ silenzio”_

 

A triple Axel. Yuri’s favorite jump. It occurred to him that he probably shouldn’t be doing jumps while he was skating alone, but he was lost in Victor’s skating.

 

_“Con una spada vorrei tagliare quelle gole che cantano d'amore”_

 

A combination spin into an arabesque, then into the first step sequence.

 

_“Vorrei serrare nel gelo le mani che scrivono quei versi d'ardente passione”_

 

Flying sit spin. Yuri always liked those, too. He had a lot of fun learning them when he was younger.

 

_“Questa storia che senso non ha_

_Svanirà questa notte assieme alle stelle”_

 

A continuation of the step sequence—Yuri was sure that he was smiling now.

 

_“Se potessi vederti dalla speranza nascerà l’eternità”_

 

A qual Salchow followed by a triple Loop triple Axel combination. God, this routine was hard.

 

_“Stammi vicino, non te ne andare_

_Ho paura di perderti”_

 

Yuri moved into the most captivating step sequence of the piece. Victor’s step sequences had always been Yuri’s favorite part of his routines to copy when he would do them with Yuko when they were little.

 

_“Le tue mani, le tue gambe,_

_le mie mani, le mie gambe,_

_e i battiti del cuore_

_si fondono tra loro”_

 

A triple Lutz followed by a triple Flip.

 

_“Partiamo insieme_

_Ora sono pronto”_

 

A quadruple Toe Loop followed by a Triple Toe Loop into another combination spin.

 

Yuri’s chest was heaving when he reached the ending with his arms crossed above his chest. Victor never did play around and make easy routines—he always made sure to push himself and did the same to Yuri.

 

Yuri stood at center ice for a few moments with his eyes closed before crumpling down onto his knees. Sobs wracked his body as he curled in on himself. Skating _Stammi Vicino_ had changed his life when he skated it for Yuko—it brought Victor to him after it went viral. God, Yuri missed his husband.

 

“Yuri?” a voice broke him from his reverie, and his head snapped up. A Phichit-shaped blur was standing at the boards with what looked like his phone out.

 

Yuri got back to his feet and skated over to the boards, “What are you doing here Phichit?” he asked quietly.

 

Phichit smiled gently at Yuri, “You were gone for a long time, and I got worried. I got here just as you started skating Victor’s routine.”

 

Yuri stiffened, “Um, about that,” he began.

 

“Look!” Phichit cut him off, holding his phone up to Yuri’s face, “It’s already got three thousand likes on Instagram!”

 

All the blood drained from Yuri’s face. He couldn’t believe that this was happening to him _again_. His head fell against the boards with a loud ‘thunk’.

 

“Um, Yuri?” Phichit asked, tentatively poking at Yuri’s head, “Are you alright?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took some liberty with the jumps in the routine since he was shown doing the jumps, but the commentators didn't say what they were
> 
> Please feel free to point out any errors!
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated!
> 
> you can find me on tumblr at [ glaswitch ](https://glaswitch.tumblr.com). you can also find me on twitter at [ bdolwrites ](https://twitter.com/bdolwrites). news regarding updates will be posted there
> 
> Also: this is just for fun, and I'm not looking for any concrit. Thanks!


	6. Like A Prayer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Stammi Vicino_ has gone viral, Yuri has to work on his programs, and Finals Week is on the horizon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright I know I said updates would be closer together, and I guess they kinda are. To make up for making you guys wait so long, here's a longer chapter. I originally thought it was going to be a bit of a filler chapter, but it got away from me, and I'm glad it did.
> 
> chapter title is from "Like A Prayer" by Madonna

“Yuri?” Phichit asked tentatively, giving his shoulder a light poke, “Are you okay?”

 

Yuri groaned, “I can’t believe my goddamn luck.”

 

“What?” Phichit probed, poking him in the shoulder once more.

 

Yuri lifted his head from the boards and gave Phichit a flat look, “The first time me skating _Stammi Vicino_ went viral, Victor showed up naked in my family’s _onsen_ and announced that he was going to be my new coach.”

 

Phichit’s jaw dropped, “You’re shitting me.”

 

Yuri shook his head, “I fainted right there when I ran into the _onsen_ to find him standing there completely naked, declaring himself my coach.”

 

“Why your coach?” Phichit inquired, poking at the red spot on Yuri’s forehead from the boards.

 

“Apparently,” Yuri sighed, “When Drunk Yuri grinded up on him at the first banquet and begged him to be my coach, he was smitten.”

 

Phichit giggled, “Drunk Yuri is a force to be reckoned with.”

 

Yuri shook his head and reached for his skate guards, “Drunk Yuri is a troublemaker and should not be trusted.”

 

Phichit laughed once more, “You’re only saying that because Drunk Yuri called another guy ‘Victor’ in bed. Maybe more than once.”

 

Yuri stilled and looked Phichit dead in the eye, “I forgot about that. Thanks for reminding me.”

 

“Anytime. Anyway, it’s late so let’s go back to the dorm so you can curl up in bed and die of shame like I know you want to,” Phichit urged, picking up Yuri’s water bottle and jacket.

 

“You know me so well,” Yuri huffed, unlacing his skates and stowing them back in his bag. Phichit handed him his water bottle and jacket, which he slipped into, and the two of them began the walk back to their dorm.

 

Yuri kept his head down as he walked, and Phichit chattered away. It was probably around one in the morning, but he was afraid that the few college students still roaming around the campus would recognize him from the video—he knew it wasn’t likely but his anxiety suggested otherwise. He hunched his shoulders as if it would hide him from them.

 

Phichit bumped his shoulder into Yuri’s as they walked, “Anxiety’s a bitch, huh?”

 

Yuri gave him a bewildered look.

 

Phichit smiled gently, “You do this thing with your shoulders when you’re anxious where they slowly turn into earmuffs. I think it’s a universal Yuri constant.”

 

“Oh,” Yuri said quietly, “I didn’t realize.”

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Phichit replied, unlocking the door to their room, “And hey, look, we’re already back. Now let’s get you into a blanket burrito so you can sleep some of that nasty anxiety off.”

 

Yuri plopped his bag by the door and smiled at him, “Thank you.”

 

Phichit whapped him on the head, ushering him towards his bed, “None of that, now. Helping your anxious best friend is part of the best friend code. I think it’s even a law or something. Cosmic time travel magic whatever or not, you’re still Yuri, and I still love you. Now, as the esteemed Samuel L. Jackson once said, ‘Go the fuck to sleep.’”

 

—

 

The next morning, Yuri woke for practice with Celestino to _Stammi Vicino_ blaring from his phone. He reached over for his husband, screwing his eyes shut when his hand hit the wall. He wasn’t married anymore. _Stammi Vicino_ had been his alarm for the past five years, and he forgot that it was his alarm in this timeline too. He groaned and hauled himself out of bed—7am was far too early for anyone to be awake, in his opinion.

 

Speaking of _Stammi Vicino_ , Yuri saw close to four thousand notifications from Instagram and Twitter. Some from other skaters congratulating him from bouncing back from the Final, others asking why he skated it, and then the usual hate Yuri had come to grow accustomed to. He swiped away those notifications—being married to Victor Nikiforov meant a lot of unhappy fans, but he had learned to deal with it.  

 

In addition to the notifications, he had several messages from Yuko, Takeshi, and Minako. Even one from Mari that said “Yuko keeps screaming about that guy on your wall”. Yuri sighed, figuring that he probably should make a statement. He replied to Yuko, Takeshi, and Minako with the answer he had given them the first time: he skated it to regain his love of skating. To Mari, he merely sent “Don’t worry about it.”

 

Yuri looked over at Phichit sitting on the other bed in the dorm room, snoring away. He was lucky and had afternoon practices with Celestino. Yuri had morning practices because all his upper level classes were scheduled in the afternoon and evening. Which Yuri had forgotten about.

 

Yuri huffed as he got dressed, “Why did the universe send me back to relive _college_ ? Why _finals week_?” he demanded in a whisper, looking up at the ceiling.

 

“I plead the fifth,” came from the other side of the room, and Yuri froze—he had forgotten that Phichit tended to talk in his sleep, “You can’t prove I stole that hamster cutout.”

 

Yuri choked back a laugh and laced up his sneakers. He grabbed a protein bar off his desk and his skating bag from where it had been left by the door. He eased the door open, wincing when the hinges squealed.

 

“Don’t forget the butter at the store,” Phichit mumbled, rolling over.

 

Yuri rolled his eyes and closed the door, locking it before heading towards the stairwell. The cold stung his skin when he stepped outside, and he zipped his coat up further. He set off, jogging across campus to the rink, relishing in the slight burn in his calves. By the time he got to the rink, Yuri felt significantly warmer, and he stopped to stare at the morning sky outside. He had an idea.

 

**y-katsuki**

[Image of the morning sky above the Detroit Skate Club sign]

3,432 likes

 **y-katsuki** Very recently, I lost someone very close to me: my poodle and best friend Vicchan. I fell apart, and I lost my love of skating. As a child, I was inspired by so many skaters to be better, and I started out with copying their routines. So I did it again, in the hopes that that joy would come back to me, and I think it has. I was in a very dark place, but things are looking up, and I hope that everyone will continue to support me as I make my way through the rest of the season.

 

And so, I guess what I mean to say is: I’m sorry I forgot to leave a note.

View all 200 comments

 **phichit+chu** yuuuuuurrrriiiiiii (⋟﹏⋞)

 **christophe-gc** I’ll see you at the podium at World’s, Yuri ;)

 **icecastlemadonna** Yuri! We all love you and we’re rooting for you!

 

Yuri made sure it posted to his twitter as well and then turned off notifications for all his social media apps, switched his phone to silent, and tucked it away. He wouldn’t bother with social media until after he got through Nationals.

 

Once he walked in, he went over to the back office and he got a cup of hot cocoa to go with his protein bar. Yuri sat down on one of the benches by the rink, taking sips of his hot cocoa while working on his protein bar. Celestino was on the other side of the rink giving directions to Marienne, another one of his skaters.

 

She had the French Nationals in a few days, and she was trying to cram in as much practice as possible. She medaled if he remembered correctly, but he wasn’t sure. The French Nationals fell around finals week, and Yuri’s brain was mostly mush during finals week. His head was swimming in numbers, and he regularly cursed out his accounting professors while studying only to fall asleep minutes later on his textbook.

 

Yuri took a long sip of his cocoa as he remembered how Phichit once posted a picture on instagram once of him asleep on his textbook with a number of empty Red Bull cans balanced on top of him. He also remembered waking up to a lecture over the phone from Celestino about how he was an athlete and being a college student was no excuse not to take care of his body.

 

“Ciao Ciao, Yuri!” Celestino boomed from behind Yuri, causing Yuri to jump and momentarily choke on his sip of cocoa.

 

Celestino patted him vigorously on the back, “Easy there, Yuri. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

 

“Ah, it’s alright,” Yuri replied, coughing lightly, “It’s my fault. I was zoning out. Sorry.”

 

Celestino waved him off, “Don’t worry about it. How about you warm up after you finish that so you can show me the programs you mentioned on the plane. I want to know what’s going through that head of yours.”

 

Yuri nodded, hurrying to down the rest of his breakfast. As soon as he finished, he tucked away his glasses in his bag, laced up his skates, and made his way to the ice to warm up. After he was sufficiently warmed up, he skated over to Celestino, who was standing at the boards with a pad of paper and a pen.

 

“Alright, Yuri,” Celestino began as Yuri got close enough, “Do you want to start with your short or free program?”

 

Yuri paused for a moment, “Short program. I’m still waiting on the music for my free program, but I was able to get the music I need for the short already.”

 

Celestino nodded thoughtfully, “You don’t normally pick your music. What do you have in mind for your short program?”

 

“It’s called _On Love: Eros_ ”, Yuri replied, blushing, “And the theme of it is, um, sexual love.”

 

Celestino raised his eyebrows, “That is…not something I would expect from you. Let’s go through the components, and then you can show it to me.”

 

He handed the pen over to Yuri, and Yuri walked him through the jumps, spins, and step sequences in the _Eros_ routine. Celestino listened quietly, his expression unreadable. Yuri felt anxious at the prospect that Celestino might say no to the program. He swallowed around the lump in his throat and did his best to explain it all. After Yuri finished, Celestino remained uncharacteristically quiet.

 

“Um, Coach?” Yuri asked tentatively, “What do you think?”

 

Celestino pursed his lips and hummed, “It’s certainly an ambitious program, and while I wholly believe that you can pull it off, I worry about you. I know that you struggle with the Quad Sal in competitions, but I think that if you keep in this zone that you seem to have ended up in after the Final, you could do it. I don’t know what happened, but it’s like you’re a different person. Maybe you should just show it to me first though so I actually know what it’s supposed to look like.”

 

Celestino had no idea just how right he was. Although Yuri couldn’t blame Celestino for being apprehensive—Ciao Ciao had always been very supportive of Yuri, and he never once blamed Yuri for feeling anxious. He didn’t always know how to help when Yuri was anxious, but he did his best, and Yuri would always be grateful to him for being such a wonderful coach.

 

“Do you want me to run it first with or without the music?” Yuri asked Celestino.

 

“Hmm…let’s do it once without the music, and then again with it so I can get a feel for it.”

 

Yuri nodded in understanding, “Got it.”

 

He moved into position at center ice, and held his starting pose. And then he began to move, sliding his hands down his body and throwing a flirty smirk towards Celestino. He imagined that it was Victor in Celestino’s place, which made him feel slightly less awkward about skating a program meant to seduce for Ciao Ciao.

 

Yuri moved through the step sequence, and with every sway of his hips, he remembered Victor’s against his. An on beat clap to music that wasn’t there yet. Every movement reminded him of every moment spend in Victor’s embrace, a phantom feeling lingering along his skin.

 

A spread eagle into a clean Triple Axel with good height. He smiled—he couldn’t quite place why the Triple Axel was his favorite jump, but something about it just always felt right.

 

Another step sequence. His skin felt like it was on fire from the memory of Victor’s touch alone.

 

Then, the Quadruple Salchow that Celestino had been so worried about it. Yuri took off and landed it cleanly; it had been years since he had fallen on a Quad Salchow back in his old timeline. He hoped it was enough to get Celestino completely on board.

 

The final step sequence, with a lunge as he glided across the ice.

 

And then, without thinking, Yuri jumped straight into a Quad Flip followed immediately by a triple toe loop for the last combination. He had given Celestino a Quad Toe Loop as the last Quad in the routine. This body might be unfamiliar with jumping the Quad Flip, but Yuri had been doing it for so long that it still felt like second nature.

 

A combination spin leading into the last few steps before striking his ending pose.

 

He wasn’t sure when, but his eyes slipped shut during the performance. He opened them and squinted at Celestino’s figure by the side of the rink. He couldn’t tell for sure, but it looked a little like Celestino’s jaw had dropped.

 

Yuri skated over to the boards, “Coach?” he asked tentatively.

 

Celestino furrowed his eyebrows, “Yuri,” he began, “Since when have you been able to do a Quad Flip?”

 

Yuri gulped, “Um, well…you see—”

 

“You’ve been practicing it in secret haven’t you?” Celestino cut him off with a frown.

 

“I, uh, yeah,” Yuri replied, pretending to be admonished. It was much easier to go with secretly practicing instead of explaining time travel.

 

Celestino scrubbed his hand over his face, “You know how dangerous that is, but it’s too late now, I suppose. However, from here on out, you’re not to practice that program without me here. I don’t want you doing jumps like that when you’re not in practice with me.”

 

Yuri nodded, “Yes, Coach.”

 

“Very well. Show me it again with the music,” Celestino sighed.

 

Yuri nodded once more and returned to center ice to go through the program with the music this time. Every movement reminded him of Victor’s body against his, of performing the routine in front of the world as he showed off their love. Once he finished, Celestino waved him over toward the boards.

 

“Yuri, what’s your theme for your programs?” he asked.

 

Yuri smiled a little, “The theme is ‘On My Love’,” he replied.

 

Celestino hummed, “We can work with that. Now you said you don’t have the music for your free program, right?”

 

“Yes,” Yuri answered, “I’m actually having the old demo I got made redone. The composer told me she should have it done by the end of the week.”

 

Celestino stroked his chin thoughtfully, “Alright. I think we can make this work if your free program is as good as your short, but I’d like to see it first. Walk me through the components and then show it to me. Then we can talk logistics.”

 

“Yes, Coach,” Yuri said, picking the pen up off the boards, “This one is a more general type of love for the specific theme of it. First, it starts out with  a Quad Toe-Double Toe combination. Next is a Quadruple Salchow—don’t make that face—followed by a Triple Flip.”

 

Celestino’s eyebrows were near his hairline—Yuri had a very ambitious program plan.

 

“Next I do a Triple Axel followed by another Quad Toe Loop. Then a Triple Axel-Single Loop-Triple Salchow combination—you’re still making that face—a Triple Lutz-Triple Loop combination, and the last jump is Quad Flip like in my short program.”

 

Celestino stared hard at the pad of paper with the jump components written out, “Are you sure about this? It’s a lot.”

 

Yuri looked down at his hands—his right hand looked so odd without the gold band he had worn for years on it. Victor had been shocked when he debuted this version of _Yuri On Ice_ at the 2016 Grand Prix Final, back when Yuri thought it was going to be his last time on the ice. Which it turned out not to be, and Yuri continued with those jump components for the rest of the season, even winning gold at Worlds in 2017.

 

Yuri raised his head and looked Celestino in the eye, “I’m sure, Coach. I know I can do it.”

 

“I know you can,” Celestino said, “I was worried that you didn’t, but I’m glad you do. Now let’s have a look!”

 

Yuri nodded enthusiastically, “Yes, Coach!” He called out as he skated back to center ice for the third time.

 

He looked down and assumed the position for the beginning of the _Yuri On Ice_ routine. He raised his hands to the sky and began to move. He could hear the opening piano notes in his head despite the silence in the rink. He knew the song like the back of his hand—it had been the second song he and Victor danced to at their wedding after the duet version of _Stammi Vicino_.

 

Yuri skated. He closed his eyes and remembered when Victor first showed up in his onsen. He remembered their first kiss at the Cup of China. Their first time, slow and sweet, tangled up in one another’s embrace. Victor’s eyes, so full of love, whenever he woke Yuri up for practice. His jaw hanging open as he snored, drooling slightly onto his pillow. Walking Makkachin together on the beach. Moving to Russia and dancing in the kitchen at 3am to music that only they could hear. Standing on the podium side by side.

 

Their first dance at their wedding when they both cried with joy. Their wedding night. Their honeymoon in Hawaii—Victor had gotten terribly sunburnt because he forgot to put on sunscreen one morning before they tried surfing. Shared showers that wasted more water than they saved despite Victor’s claims. Victor pretending to be discreet while putting his green beans on Yuri’s plate at dinner. The nights where the two of them, too tired for anything after practice, would fall asleep in each other’s arms, Makkachin lying across their feet.

 

Yuri ended the routine, reaching towards a phantom Victor who no longer stood at the boards for him. His eyes pricked with tears, and he looked up at the ceiling of the rink, trying to keep it together. He took a few shaky breaths before skating back towards the boards to talk with Ciao Ciao.

 

“So…uh…Coach…what did you think?” Yuri asked tentatively, some of his earlier tenacity gone.

 

Celestino’s eyes shone, “Yuri, that was a beautiful program. Very sad, but very beautiful, too.”

 

“Thank you,” Yuri said quietly, picking up his water bottle to take a sip, “This program means a lot to me.”

 

Celestino smiled gently, “I can tell. So what are you going to do about costumes?”

 

Yuri dropped his water bottle.

 

—  

 

Yuri frowned at his computer, wishing that the _kanji_ on the screen said something different. The seamstress who normally made his costumes said she would be able to make the new ones based off of some design ideas he scanned to her, but she wouldn’t have them ready until after Nationals. She let him know that he’d be welcome to “drop by” her shop in Fukuoka after the competition, as if it wasn’t on the other side of the country.

 

He drummed his fingers on his computer—he knew better than to be mad at her. It was a rush order already, and she outfitted most of the skaters in Japan. He normally gave her around two months for his costumes before the season started, and she expressed them to him in Detroit once she finished.

 

Yuri’s fingers stilled. If he “dropped by” her shop in Fukuoka after Nationals to pick up the costumes, he could take the train to Hasetsu and spend some time with his family. He might be able to get Celestino to let him fly back to Detroit at a later date if he promised to practice while in Hasetsu. He’d ask him tomorrow at practice.

 

Back to the other matter at hand: his programs. There was a chance that he could work with his old programs, but it wasn’t ideal. They were certainly good, but they were incredibly sad. ‘Which might work, actually’, Yuri thought to himself, ‘I have plenty to give to those programs’.

 

A self-deprecating laugh escaped him—of course he wouldn’t be able to actually perform the programs well until he had everything taken away from him. How fitting for the theme of ‘Longing’. Yuri reached into one of the drawers in his desk and pulled out a pad of paper and a pen with a long sigh. He had a lot of work to do.

 

—

 

When Yuri’s alarm went off at 7am the next morning, he rolled over to try and turn it off, and he fell out of bed instead. His phone fell off his nightstand, and he struggled to get out of the mess of blankets he was tangled up in.

 

“Ugh, turn that off,” Phichit groaned from under his own lump of blankets.

 

Yuri extracted his hand and smacked around blindly until he made contact with his phone. He grabbed it and held it close to his face to input the passcode: 1225. Yuri sighed in relief as he turned off the alarm.

 

“Thank you,” grumbled Phichit, rolling over.

 

Yuri got to his feet with a grunt, and set about dressing himself and getting ready for practice with Celestino. He had his work cut out for him.

 

He arrived at the rink shortly before 8am, a protein bar hanging out of his mouth as he jogged through the door. He grabbed his skates and notepad out of his bag, threw it in his locker, and moved to the boards to see Celestino.

 

Yuri quietly moved to his side, “Coach,” he said quietly, “I have some…less than ideal news.”

 

Celestino rose an eyebrow, “Less than ideal?”

 

“Yes,” Yuri nodded, “I spoke with my seamstress in Fukuoka, and she said she won’t have my new costumes until after Nationals are over.”

 

“So what are you going to do?” Celestino asked, giving Yuri a searching look.

 

Yuri sighed, “I’m going to use the same program as the Final, but I’ve made some changes to it.”

 

Yuri handed over the notepad to Celestino and waited as he read the new components and the notes Yuri had written down the night before. Celestino huffed.

 

“Coach?” Yuri asked nervously.

 

Celestino shook his head, “You never seem to stop surprising me Yuri. A Quad Loop planned? Have you even been practicing it?”

 

Yuri shook his head, “I haven’t, but the Loop is one of my stronger jumps. Better than my Salchow at the very least.”

 

Celestino threw his head back to stare at the ceiling, “God help me.”

 

Yuri side-eyed Ciao Ciao, “Uh…Coach?”

 

“You’re going to drive me to an early grave, Yuri Katsuki,” Celestino told him, clapping Yuri on the shoulder, “But at least I’ll be going as a damn proud coach. Let’s get to making those changes so you can remind everyone just how good you are at the Japanese Nationals. Make anyone who ever doubted you regret it.”

 

Yuri felt himself choking up—Celestino always seemed to know what worried him, “Yes, Coach.”

 

“Oh, but one more thing, Yuri,” Celestino called out as Yuri skated out on the ice.

 

Yuri looked back, “What?”

 

Celestino grinned, “You still have to drill the other two from yesterday. Don’t think I’m letting you off easy.”

 

Yuri smiled back, “Got it, Coach. Actually, uh, I have one more thing to ask you.”

 

Celestino squinted his eyes, “What is it?”

 

“I haven’t been home in a while, and I was wondering if it would be okay if I could stay an extra week in Japan after Nationals to visit my family in Hasetsu. There’s an ice rink there called Ice Castle Hasetsu, and I promise to practice. It’s just, it’s been a while and—”

 

“Yuri,” Celestino cut him off, “Of course you can. You’ve been away for so long. I don’t have any qualms about it so long as you practice.”

 

Yuri gave Celestino a watery smile, “Thank you, Ciao Ciao.”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Celestino said softly, “Go work on your programs.”

 

—

 

Finals came much sooner than Yuri would have liked. Malia had gotten the reworked version of _Yuri On Ice_ to him, and it made practicing his programs go a little more smoothly. Celestino was thrilled when Yuri presented him with the new music—he was worried that Yuri might have gotten cold feet, but Yuri proved him otherwise.

 

The week passed in a haze for him. Celestino cut back his time at the rink, and Yuri spent more hours at the library, hunched over textbooks and writing until his hand cramped. At one point, he was sure that there was more Red Bull than actual blood in his bloodstream. As far as he could tell though, he passed all of his classes, including Law and Social Issues in Business and Management Accounting and Control—both senior level classes that he wished he didn’t have to take. But it was his last semester, and if he really did pass everything, then he’d be finished with his accounting degree.

 

After the week ended, he had another week to get his programs in fighting shape if he wanted to defend his title. Yuri may have spectacularly self-destructed and placed eleventh in his old timeline, but he did remember that there were several good up-and-coming skaters that year. Kenjiro Minami was probably the strongest, and Yuri felt himself swell with pride. Minami was set to become Japan’s next ace when Yuri died.

 

‘He probably is by now’, Yuri thought bittersweetly.

 

—

 

The night before he was due to fly out to Sapporo for nationals, Yuri was making sure he was fully packed. He opened up his suitcase to check that his costumes were still there and paused, his eyes roaming over the blue and black fabric.

 

Yuri bit his lip—he didn’t know if he could stand wearing the exact same costumes. The mere sight of them brought back memories of failing and falling. He had an idea.

 

Yuri pulled the sleeve of his free program costume to his lips and bit down. He tore the seam with his teeth, detaching the ruffles that had previously been there.

 

Phichit looked up from where he was curled up on his bed with his hamsters and phone, “Whoa, Yuri! What the hell are you doing?” he exclaimed.

 

“I’m fixing my costumes,” Yuri answered, throwing aside the now-removed ruffle, “They didn’t feel right.”

 

Phichit raised an eyebrow, “Um, okay. Well, my sewing kit is in the top drawer of my desk. You ran out of black thread last month, but I still have plenty.”

 

“Thanks,” Yuri replied, moving to his feet to get the sewing kit out of Phichit’s desk.

 

He procured the sewing kit, and as he walked past his own desk, he paused. A pair of his black gloves sat on top of his laptop. He grabbed them, and then a clean black Mizuno shirt laying over the back of Yuri’s chair. Yuri sat down next to his suitcase, and opened up the kit. He chewed at his lip, debating what to do first.

 

Yuri picked up the scissors, scrunched his eyes shut, and steeled himself. He made the first cut to the neckline. He opened his eyes and removed the remainder of the neckline out of his costume. He cut along the blue flame-like edges, detaching the white fabric. Yuri sat back amongst the shreds of the fabric and looked from the mess to his costume to the black shirt he grabbed. He needed to go to the fabric store if he wanted to make this work.

 

Yuri jumped up and grabbed his phone, wallet and keys, “I’ll be back,” he called out to Phichit as he hurried out the door.

 

“Come back safe,” was the reply that came through the door as it shut behind him.

 

Yuri ran down the block to the local fabric store, praying that he would get there before it closed in fifteen minutes. He made it just in time. The poor shopkeeper gave him an odd look when he gave her his request, but she gave him the yards of fabric he needed. He tucked the bag she gave him under his arm, and ran back to the dorm.

 

Yuri burst through the door, kicked his sneakers off, and ran back over to his costumes. His flight was in about five hours—giving him three to make the alterations he needed to. Yuri picked the scissors back up and started cutting out a new nude mesh neckline that took the place of the white one.

 

Once he cut that piece out, he pulled his short program costume out and gave it a once-over. He pursed his lips. His longing was a little more for lost love this time around instead of longing for a gold medal. This one also had a white neckline, but he would use his shirt to trade it out for a black collar cut slightly like that of the _Eros_ costume.  

 

The thought occurred to him to make this costume into more of an homage to the original _Eros_ costume. The new one was going to be different since he hadn’t been able to give the seamstress designs for the original. He wondered if he could make the costume would be sexy enough, as it was to be an homage to _Eros_.

 

Yuri gripped the scissors tightly—he was going to need to add a nude panel. He had a 6am flight, and he scrutinized the fabric scattered around him—he had his work cut out for him.

 

—

 

Celestino picked Yuri up three hours later to go to the airport, frowning at the bags under his eyes but not saying anything. After they checked in and made it through security, he led Yuri over to a seat and pressed a mug of coffee into his hand. Yuri blinked owlishly at him, and he told him that Yuri could sleep after their layover, and then catch up on sleep the day before Nationals started. Celestino sat down beside Yuri and they waited until they were directed to board. And then they were off to Sapporo.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This sucker ended up being 14 pages! I even accidentally pulled an all-nighter last night while working on it. I was writing, and then I looked up, and daylight was coming in through my window. I enjoyed writing this one, and I'm glad that I got to write more Ciao Ciao because I love him. 
> 
> A few things:  
> -Phichit's sleep talking is modeled after my own. The "Don't forget the butter at the store" is a direct quote from me when I was 7 years old.  
> -I was told I should link to the [ fifth amendment](http://constitution.findlaw.com/amendment5.html) to the US Constitution just in case. One pleads the fifth when they are exercising their right to avoid self-incrimination.  
> -Yuri is an accounting major so he can help with his family's business after he retires  
> -I will be leaving the country (I'm from the US) in 10 days for a 2 week vacation. I'm going to try and work on the next update to get it out before I go, but I can't make any promises. If I don't get it out, I'll try and get it done during some down time on my vacation.
> 
> Please feel free to point out any errors!
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated!
> 
> you can find me on tumblr at [ glaswitch ](https://glaswitch.tumblr.com). you can also find me on twitter at [ bdolwrites ](https://twitter.com/bdolwrites). news regarding updates will be posted there like where I stand with word counts and when I plan to post the updates
> 
> Also: this is just for fun, and I'm not looking for any concrit. Thanks!


	7. I could find a way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri and Celestino arrive in Sapporo for Nationals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> um I'm not dead
> 
> today I reread the ch 6 and I looked at myself and was like "damn bitch this is good why haven't you updated????"
> 
> but also life tends to get in the way. this past year has been very rough for me, and I've had a lot happen. I changed my major, added a second, am doing an extra year of college, and I'm studying journalism now. it's been a lot. also if I forget an oxford comma it's from ap style so whoops. I also haven't edited this but my computer is not charging so I wanted to share what I had before it died.
> 
> also, I have notes on how this was supposed to go, but I can't find my notebook so here is 100% organic unplanned content. just like my little brother. (bad joke, I know). shoutout to impolitecanadian for being the best friend I could ever ask for and reminding me to always put myself first. ily girl <3
> 
> chapter title is from "If I Could Turn Back Time" by Cher

After they boarded the plane, Yuri took out a pen and started drawing on a napkin. He drew a rink and gestured Celestino to listen to him. 

 

“I want to go over this one more time with you,” Yuri told him.

 

“Sounds good to me,” Celestino said, nodding enthusiastically.

 

Yuri inclined his head slightly. “So for  _ Eros _ , I’m going to go around the rink clockwise from center ice…”

 

Yuri continued the explanation of the routine, making X’s where he would be doing jumps. Celestino would point to sections of the diagram, prompting Yuri to tell him more about sections of the routine.

 

“So at the end, right here, I was thinking of telling the judges that I’m doing a Quad Toe instead of the Quad Flip. I thought about telling them it’s a Loop, but—”

 

“You don’t want them to take points off for a flubbed jump because of the similarities in the edges of the jumps,” Celestino filled in.

 

“Exactly. I want to surprise them, but I don’t want to do it in a way that will hurt me. What do you think?” Yuri asked

 

Celestino stroked his moustache. “I think … we can do it. I haven’t given them a list of the elements for your programs yet, anyways, so I’ll give them a different one when we land. I think you should still do the Quad Toe in public practice though.”

 

Yuri furrowed his brows. “Why is that?”

 

“Throw them off their rhythm,” Celestino said, grinning.

 

Yuri smiled back at him. They went through his free program, too. Afterwards, Yuri leaned back and listened to the music for his programs while Celestino worked on his iPad. Later on, they both fell asleep. 

 

They woke up again for their layover, spending two hours in the airport. Celestino bought Yuri a Cinnabon and handed it to him, not minding that Yuri stayed in the zone the entire time. Yuri ate methodically, staring blankly ahead and nodding along to his music. He didn’t notice the proud look in Celestino’s eyes. 

 

He also didn’t notice Celestino glaring at people who tried to approach him — something that he would be grateful for should he be cognizant of it. He didn’t need anyone disturbing him and breaking his concentration going into Nationals. Yuri got a second chance and he was going to do it right.

 

Before long, they boarded the second leg of their flight, and Yuri quickly dozed off while Celestino answered more emails. 

 

————   

 

Yuri woke to Celestino shaking his shoulder. He swatted in Celestino’s direction and smacked him on the nose. Celestino grunted.

 

“Yuri, come on. Wake up,” Celestino said, giving his shoulder another shake.

 

Yuri grumbled and opened a single eye to glare at Celestino. He looked unimpressed. He stood up and hooked an arm under Yuri’s, pulling him to his feet. 

 

“We’re in Sapporo. We have to get off the plane.”

 

Yuri stumbled along, grateful for Celestino’s steadying hand on his back that quickly turned into a fist in the back of his shirt when he tripped over his own feet. Celestino said nothing, and continued to herd Yuri off the plane. By the time they got through baggage claim and into the cab, Yuri was much more alert. 

 

The drive to the hotel was short, and Yuri grimaced when he noticed fans waiting outside. He just wanted to check in, take a shower, and fall asleep. Celestino elbowed him when he saw the look on Yuri’s face.

 

Yuri schooled his face and carefully got out of the cab. The driver got his and Celestino’s suitcases, and Yuri nodded at the fans and offered a slight wave as he hurried into the hotel. Celestino followed behind him, smiling politely but not stopping either. 

 

Check in went smoothly, but Yuri could feel eyes on his back as he moved throughout the lobby. He turned his head and noticed Minami watching him, and Minami promptly turned red and hid his face in his hands when he noticed Yuri looking. 

 

Yuri smiled slightly in his direction and then got in the elevator. They got to the 16th floor, and Celestino handed Yuri his key card.

 

“You’re in room 615, and I’m in 618, across the hall from you.”

 

“Thanks,” Yuri said quietly, and entered his room. 

 

He put his suitcases by the dresser and walked into the bathroom. He turned on the shower and stared at himself in the mirror while waiting for the water to warm up.

 

Yuri traced under his eyes and around the corners. In a different time, he had laugh lines around his eyes. Today, there were only bags and the beginnings of a wrinkle between his eyes from constant worrying. Later, that crease would be balanced out by the lines around his eyes because Victor kept Yuri worrying even if he also made Yuri grin like a fool.

 

Yuri worried about Victor’s creaky left knee and the way his hip would ache when it rained. Victor retired the year after his return from skating, having worn his body out. Nonetheless, he would still try and demonstrate jumps that were far too hard on his body while coaching. 

 

Yuri hoped that Yurio was looking after Victor now that Yuri was gone from their timeline. 

 

Yuri met his reflection’s eyes. There were tears streaking down his cheeks. Yuri slapped his cheeks.

 

“Get it together, Yuri. You died. You got a second chance. There’s no use fretting about what you can’t control anymore,” he said to the mirror.

 

Yuri unselfconsciously shirked his clothing, stepping out of it and under the hot water. He turned his face into the spray, hoping to wash away the tears that were still falling a little bit. He’d probably have to wash his face with cold water afterwards to get rid of the puffiness. Yuri sighed and reached for the hotel shampoo.

 

He could almost hear Victor screeching about how he should stick to a specific hair regimen, and Yuri huffed out a small laugh. He wasn’t as picky about his hair as Victor was. Victor, who had sixteen different hair products lined up across the bathroom counter. Yuri had no problem with hotel shampoo — he was blessed with naturally soft hair, although he did use a satin pillowcase at home to help keep it that way. He’d have to get one in this timeline too. It was Victor who turned him on to the appeals of skin and hair care. 

 

Yuri thoroughly washed and conditioned his hair before scrubbing himself down, hoping to remove all traces of the plane. As much as he flew, he still hated the way the stale, recycled air clung to your skin. 

 

When he finished, he stepped out of the shower and wrapped himself in a plush bath towel. The hot water had done wonders for the knots his back muscles had become during the flight. Yuri glanced at the pile of clothing he left on the bathroom floor and decided that was a problem for Tomorrow’s Yuri.

 

For now, he hung the towel up, stepped over to rummage through his suitcase for underwear, and pulled it on. Yuri plugged his phone into the outlet by his bed, set an alarm for the next morning, and fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm now on tumblr at [lesbiantysonbarrie](https://lesbiantysonbarrie.tumblr.com)
> 
> I have no idea when I'm gonna update again because I'm gonna do some traveling and life is weird so I'm not gonna make any promises, but I'm gonna try to avoid doing another year in between


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